You'll never hear me knocking an old pair of boots
by thegirl20
Summary: Charity and Vanessa enjoy the Wild West theme a bit more than they probably should.


"Well, personally, I don't give a stuff about your sister's love life and I am _not _having you squirting fake blood all over my pub." Charity shakes her head, staring Nicola down over the bar.

While she wouldn't come out and say it, she's quite enjoying all this nonsense. She likes a bit of dressing up as much as the next person. Only, usually when she does it, there's a risk of getting her collar felt. So this is a nice change of pace. She's looking pretty good, if she does say so herself. She managed to rustle up an old black ballgown type thing in a charity shop and she persuaded Lydia to make some alterations to it. Pair of heels and her hair shoved into an updo with a few tendrils dangling by her face and she's every inch the saloon girl.

"But Charity, it's all for a good cause," Nicola whines. "It's not _just _for Bernice, is it? It's for all them kiddies and their families who'll have to travel miles if they shut that ward." She goes to touch Charity's arm, but clearly thinks better of it. "I mean, imagine if your lot had to traipse to Leeds or Manchester every time you'd wanted to see Sarah?"

"Hey! I'm already doing my bit, aren't I? I'm out of pocket, giving you this place for free." Charity crosses her arms, noting that the move does wonders for her cleavage in this get up. "And it's not so long ago that my girlfriend was lying bleeding out the back for real, yeah? So there'll be no more blood in here. Fake or otherwise." She shakes her head. "No, it's gonna have to be the Colonel Cowboy, with the lead...shotgun, somewhere flippin' else."

Nicola sighs. "And how am I going to find somewhere in this village where somebody _hasn't _had a near death experience?"

"That's your problem, babe, not mine." Charity shakes her head. "You'd think you'd have planned out the _murder_ bit of this _murder_ mystery event a little more in advance, eh?"

"Yeah, well, Bernice was mostly bothered about what she'd be wearing." Nicola rolls her eyes and puts her black Stetson back on. "She forgot about the murder bit."

"How has that woman managed to keep a business going for all these-"

The door opens and Vanessa steps in. Charity's entire vocabulary departs and what comes out of her mouth is a noise she's never made before in her life. Vanessa's wearing brown trousers and riding boots, with two toy guns holstered in a belt slung low on her hips. It's the top half, though, that's got Charity's attention. She's got on what looks to be a man's waistcoat, with only a white vest underneath, leaving her arms gloriously bare. Her hair is mostly hidden by the cowboy hat she's wearing, but a few curls have escaped at the sides. Charity's always attracted to Vanessa. _Always_. But sometimes, like now, the force of that attraction feels like a literal gut punch. It like her insides are being swept into a tornado; everything's tumbling over everything else and there's swirling and pulling and it's impossible to get away from it.

Nicola's head swivels to see what Charity's looking at, and turns back with a smirk. "Ah. Should've waited and asked you after you'd seen her, eh?"

Vanessa catches her eye, a slow smile curling at her lips. Charity wonders if her reaction is obvious, even from this distance.

"Do whatever you like," Charity says, already moving out from behind the bar.

"What? I can do the murder in here?" Nicola asks, as she passes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She barely registers Nicola's fist pump, coming to a halt a few feet away from Vanessa and resting one elbow on the bar in an attempt to look casual. She tilts her head, looking at Vanessa from beneath her eyelashes.

"Why howdy there, stranger." She's aware this particular accent isn't her finest work, but she continues, gamely. "I don't believe I've ever seen you round these parts before. You new in town?"

There's a moment where confusion settles on Vanessa's brow, but it goes just as quickly as she catches on to what Charity's doing. "Oh!" She winks and tips her hat. Charity's knees almost give way and she's glad she's leaning on a solid surface. "Why, yes ma'am. Just got here today from-" Vanessa's eyes go wide. "Uh, Leedsville." She shrugs and Charity rolls her eyes. Vanessa's accent is even worse than her own, and her role play could use work, but this could be fun if they keep it up.

"All the way from Leedsville?" She concentrates on the pattern she's drawing in the condensation left on the bar by a glass. "That's a mighty long way to travel. Your throat must be powerful dry from the road." She lets her eyes drift back to meet Vanessa's. "Can I offer you a glass of sarsaparilla? Maybe something a little stronger?"

"I'll take a-" Vanessa stops, frowns. She leans forward, whispering in her own accent. "Do they have lager in the Wild West?"

A genuine laugh erupts from Charity's throat, but she plays it off by turning it into a flirtatious giggle. Dragging a finger down Vanessa's bare arm and watching goosebumps trail in its wake, she winks. "I'll get you fixed up with something cold and refreshing that'll wet your whistle."

She goes back round behind the bar, ignoring the few locals clearly waiting to be served, and starts to pull a pint. Vanessa, for her part, takes off her hat and sets it down on the bar, taking up residence on one of the stools.

"So, you got a name?" Charity slides the drink across the bar, ensuring that their hands touch when Vanessa takes it. "Or are you one of them tall, dark, mysterious strangers who comes to town from time to time?" She pauses. "Except, you know, not tall. Or dark."

Vanessa smiles and takes a sip of beer, wiping her arm across her mouth afterwards. Charity has to press her lips together to keep from making a noise.

"They call me, uh, Notorious Ness." Vanessa's face flushes a lovely shade of pink at the ridiculous moniker she's clearly come up with on the spot. "Or, uh-"

Charity smoothly interrupts and stops her from changing the name. "Notorious Ness, huh? That's a purty big name for such a little lady." She leans forward on the bar, using her arms to push her boobs together, satisfied when Vanessa's eyes immediately dip to them. "What'd you do to earn that reputation?"

"It's my family, mostly." Vanessa drags her eyes back up to Charity's. "My Pa in particular." Vanessa makes a show of looking around the pub. "I heard he was holed up round here and I thought I'd track him down."

"Who's your Pa?"

"Goes by the name of Clayton. Frank Clayton."

"Oh! Old Conman Clayton's your Pa?" Charity grins.

"You know him?" Vanessa asks, with a hopeful smile.

Charity almost_, almost, _says '_Only biblically_.' But that would spoil the proceedings and she's enjoying where this is headed. "Sure I know him. He's a regular in this very establishment." She leans in further, as if to share a confidence. "I hope your Mama's not waitin' on him coming home any time soon, because I have to tell you he's shacked up with a old dame from round here, name of Megan Macey."

Vanessa narrows her eyes, but they're twinkling and there's a smile playing at her lips.

"That so?"

Nodding, Charity lets her hand drop to cover Vanessa's on the bar, finger tracing the veins and fine bones. "So, is that all you're in town for? To see Old Frank?"

"Well it was," Vanessa drawls, looking like she's really getting into her role now. Charity files this information away for future. Vanessa tilts her head. "Can you think of any other reason I might want to stick around?"

There's a ridiculous second where Charity's heart flutters and her throat closes up. Because she lived in fear for months of Vanessa finding a reason _not _to stick around. She's thrown more than a few reasons at her on purpose, to see if she'd stay. And she did. And now she's dressed up as a cowgirl, doing a ridiculous accent and flirting shamelessly across the bar with Charity. She can still barely believe it.

"Oh, I can think of a couple of reasons," Charity says, pushing her breasts forward. Once again, Vanessa's eyes dip, her pupils flaring.

"I, uh, it's-" Vanessa takes a swing of beer, then meets Charity's eyes with a smile. "I'd need a job, if I was to stick around. A place to stay."

Charity throws her arms vaguely upwards. "You're in luck! This here is a boarding house as well as a saloon! And I'm sure I could find work enough to keep you occupied." She taps her chin, pretending to think. "Oh!, You know what? My cellar needs tending to something awful. Some sweeping, barrels to be shifted, that sort of thing."

"That right?" Vanessa puts on her hat and grins. "I'm stronger than I look. And I can turn my hand to just about anything."

Charity lifts her eyebrows. "Well, I wager you can."

"Anyone else feeling queasy?" Nicola pipes up from the table she's sitting at with Jimmy and Matty. "No? Just me, then?"

Ignoring the rude interruption, Charity continues. "Why don't you come through to the back with me and I can show you want I need done?"

Vanessa frowns and looks around. Again, she lowers her voice and drops the accent. "Don't you need to serve the customers?"

Charity sighs and casts her eyes over the room, smiling when her gaze lands on Matty. "Young Matthew will tend the bar while I'm gone, won't you?"

"It's my day off!" Matty protests, not bothering with an accent.

"It's for the children, Matthew," Charity says. When he doesn't budge, she narrows her eyes. "Fine, I'll give you an extra day off next week."

"Brilliant." He downs his pint.

Charity turns back to Vanessa with a smile. "All fixed." She sweeps an arm towards the door. "Won't you join me?"

Vanessa rolls her eyes, but hops down from her stool, quickly rounding the bar. She holds out an arm and quirks and eyebrow. "Shall we, ma'am?"

For some reason, Charity blushes at the gesture. But she takes the offered arm and they head through to the back.

"Are we really going into the cellar?" Vanessa asks. "We've a perfectly good bedroom upstairs."

"Well, we won't be going anywhere if you keep falling out of character," Charity snaps. She lets go of Vanessa's arm and lengthens her strides, opening the door to the cellar and lifting her eyebrows, her flirtatious air returned. "You never know, sugar. I've heard tales of people finding the love of their life in this here cellar."

Vanessa softens immediately. She adjusts her hat and nods. "Reckon I better take a chance, then." She takes the weight of the door from Charity and smiles. "After you, ma'am."

"I could get used to hearing that, by the way," Charity murmurs, forgetting her own accent for a moment.

"Who's falling out of character now?" Vanessa follows her down the stairs.

Waiting till Vanessa joins her, Charity points at some empty barrels. "I need those shifting over to there." She perches on the arm of the chair they spent their first night together in. Vanessa stares blankly at her. "Come on, now. I don't have time for shirkers."

"Are you being serious?" Vanessa asks, looking from the barrels to Charity. "You want me to move barrels for you? Was all that before your way of getting some free labour?"

Charity sighs. "No, babe," she says in her own voice. "I wanna see them guns, don't I?"

Vanessa's hands fall to the pistols in her holsters and she frowns. "The guns?"

"Not those guns," Charity stands and swaggers over to Vanessa, she lifts one of her arms, bending it and wrapping her hand around her bicep. She leans in close, letting her breath tickle Vanessa's cheek. "These guns."

"Oh!" Vanessa grins and flexes her arm in Charity's grip, the movement sending a corresponding ripple through her body. "Right, well-" She takes off her hat and frisbees onto the chair. "In that case, you take a seat, ma'am. I'll have this done in no time."

And Charity does take a seat, and she enjoys the show very much. Vanessa makes a meal of each and every barrel she carries the short distance across the room, making sure that her muscles bulge more than they need to, and stopping to wipe her brow with a bandana from her pocket more than once. Not that Charity can blame her; she's fairly hot and bothered herself.

When they're all done, Vanessa turns and smiles. "Was that to your liking, ma'am?"

"Oh, not quite," Charity says, pushing to her feet and moving to stand in front of Vanessa. "I might need a few more chores done before I'm completely-" She licks her lips. "-satisfied."

"What kind of chores did you have in mind?" Vanessa's voice is low, and Charity's sure her accent has improved since they started this.

"One question first," Charity says, tracing her finger down Vanessa's arm. "Did you close the door at the top of the stairs?"

"I did," Vanessa confirms, taking a step closer.

"Oh, well, that is troublin' indeed," Charity says with a gasp. She puts a hand to her chest. "You see, that catch is mighty fiddly and it's been known to stick, on occasion." She bites her lip, looking up at Vanessa through her lashes. "We could be trapped down here for hours."

Vanessa's pursing her lips to stop herself from laughing. "Hours?"

"Mmhmm." Charity nods. "_Hours_." She closes the gap between them, so they're flush against one another.

Hands land on her hips and squeeze. Vanessa tilts her head, leaning in so their lips are inches apart. "And what will we do to fill the time?"

Charity smiles. "Oh, I've a few ideas."

"These ideas better not involve any more physical labour on my part," Vanessa whispers, nose brushing Charity's.

"Well, they definitely involve you getting physical," Charity says. She pulls back slightly and puts a gentle finger on Vanessa's lips. "Tell me, you ever kissed a lady before?"

Vanessa blinks, her lips turning up under Charity's finger. She shakes her head. "Not one as pretty as you."

Charity laughs. "Oh, darlin', that is a _very_ good answer." She grabs the edges of Vanessa's waistcoat and tugs. "Come here."

Their lips come together in a thousandth kiss that feels like a first.


End file.
